


Complicated

by wolfofwinterfell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deathly Hallows, F/M, Male-Female Friendship, reflections after a death, this friendship is a headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfofwinterfell/pseuds/wolfofwinterfell
Summary: He was a complicated man. Their friendship was complicated, and so was her grief.
Relationships: Minerva McGonagall & Severus Snape
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Complicated

The night was quiet and still, the room cold. As she walked through the middle of the Great Hall, Minerva McGonagall was all too aware of how alive she was; her breathing was amplified tenfold in the company of the dead. The only other noise was that of her boots on the stone or a sniffle that snuck out when she looked at a student she had been particularly fond of. She swore she heard her heart break when she passed by Remus and Tonks, reaching toward each other. Someone had told her that they'd died holding hands and the thought of them together until the very end simultaneously comforted and destroyed the remainder of her resolve.

By the time she approached the end of the room, there were tears streaking down her face. Directly in front of the owl lectern was a table and on it, a figure clad in black. She shivered as she reached him, choking back a sob. Hearing he was dead and seeing him dead were two entirely different things. The first was something she could handle, but looking down at him, seeing the blood staining his clothes and his fingers, stiff from rigor mortis, wrapped around his wand… It made her shoulders tremble.

With the emotion came memories.

_**1971.** _

Between the laughing and the snickering and their flippant disregard for her rules, Minerva had _had_ it with the horseplay. And in the middle of her class for the second day in a row! She took a deep breath before she slapped her hand down on the desk before her, garnering attention from the class as a whole.

"Mister Potter! Mister Black! Gryffindors or not, your complacency toward my class will not be tolerated. Detention. Tonight." She could sense a rebuttal coming from the other two members of their friend group and she turned her gaze toward them briefly. "Unless you'd like to join them, Mister Lupin and Mister Pettigrew, I strongly suggest you remain silent and return your attention to the subject at hand."

Sirius and James rolled their eyes and looked away from her in kind, any protests they had planned to put up dying on their tongues with her warning. But she could still see their eyes blazing and had to look to the other side of the room to prevent smiling at them.

Courage was, undoubtedly, one of the best qualities a Gryffindor possessed, and those boys had it in spades. They'd yet to learn that there was a difference between being courageous and being arrogant, however, and they never failed to use her class as a reminder of that distinction.

The movement of a quill caught her eye as she was about to turn back toward the board to carry on writing; young Snape sat with the other Slytherins, all of whom were silent. They were usually glad to gloat anytime the Gryffindors were punished, but they'd quickly learned that was not acceptable in her domain. And yet there sat Severus, celebrating alone the way he knew best — by writing it down.

As though he knew she was watching him, he glanced up at her and perhaps he saw something in her face that prompted him to test the waters. He flashed her a daring grin, gone nearly as quick as it began.

She raised a bemused eyebrow and turned back to her lesson.

_**1976.** _

She had seen the Marauders in various states of emotions over the past six years, but hardly had they ever been this angry. They wanted to hurl words and fists, hexes and jinxes, to hurt physically and verbally and everything in between. They wanted justice and revenge.

"He called her a M—" James could hardly get the word out. Sirius was no better.

"Mudblood." It was quiet Remus who finally said it. "A filthy Mudblood, to be exact."

There was a part of Minerva who was outraged with Snape; using that word was no light matter, and to do so against someone you considered a friend was downright unspeakable. But she also knew he had not done so unprovoked...that the four boys in front of her were no saints.

"I understand what he did — after you four humiliated him." She glanced at the group. "The four of you—"

"All of us? But, Professor! It was James and Sirius that-" Peter stopped talking as soon as Minerva put her hand up.

" _Enough_." She waited until they stopped glaring at each other and turned their faces towards her again. "The four of you will have detention every night for the next two weeks, starting tonight."

James started up again. "But, Professor! Snivellus should have to serve detention too!"

"Mister Potter, I'll remind you that as you are in my House, your punishment falls to me. Mister Snape will be dealt with as his Head of House sees fit." She cleared her throat. "Twenty five points will be deducted for each of you. Take care that I don't deduct more."

The four were silent as she dismissed them. She imagined that young Snape was watching the rubies fall from the Gryffindor hourglass, but it would bring him little satisfaction. This problem wasn't one that could be fixed with a points deduction and he knew it, but it was the method that hurt his bullies the most.

With a sigh, Minerva adjusted her glasses. This class of students made her question her own morals more and more often these days.

_**1981.** _

"I trust him, Minerva." Albus's voice was soft, as always, undercut with just a bit of warning. He let her question him about nearly anything, but this was very clearly going to be a touchy matter and one she doubted she would be given all the information on.

She sighed and looked down at her lap, pressing her lips together. She could feel the headmaster studying her with those sharp, blue eyes, ready to continue whenever she was. At times like this, he made her feel insecure — not about her magic or her intellect, never that— but with her _knowledge_.

"You think I'm naive." He would never say that, but she felt it was true.

"No, I do not." He cleared his throat. "There are simply things that I cannot discuss, so I ask for your own trust in me to be enough."

"I saw his Mark." At that, she looked up. "He took the Mark, Albus. He _accepted_ it. What else has he done in the name of the cause he's pledged himself to? And you're allowing him to teach here at Hogwarts, a school ardent in its stance against that cause? _You_ will allow him to be around children?"

"It was not so long ago that you thought he showed promise."

She stiffened in her chair and pursed her lips. "Many things have changed since he was a first year, Albus."

"Ah, but not as much as you think." Albus smiled then. "When we learned he'd been recruited, you asked me if I thought he might be saved. I told you then that I have hope for a great many of them, Minerva. It is not often that we get one back."

She met his gaze then, her thoughts swarming around her insecurities about this war. That they were fighting was not her problem at all — she didn't agree with the other side's philosophies. But they'd already discovered there was a mole among them, already lost lives that didn't deserve to be taken. Who would be next? And would it come from a decision they made or an unfortunate accident?

She didn't know who to trust or who to believe. Lines drawn in the sand, such as Snape's recruitment to the Death Eaters, were supposed to make that easier.

Albus nodded at her slightly, the only sign of acknowledgement of that that she was likely to get today.

"What is he telling You-Know-Who?" She sounded wary.

"The Death Eaters all believe that he applied here with Voldemort's permission, to spy on me." He was smiling. "Which is, strictly speaking, correct."

There would be spying, Minerva was certain. But who would it _really_ be for?

* * *

The morning of September first there was a staff meeting in the Great Hall. Minerva arrived a couple moments before the other professors and stood in the center of the large room, wondering if she looked as nervous as she felt. She knew she wasn't alone; Pomona and Filius had voiced their opinions to her earlier in the week, after Albus had told them.

They all wanted to know what caused the change in heart — and why it was believed so well. But they had accepted that it would remain a mystery and had agreed, as a group, to keep an eye on their newest colleague.

Her friends joined her as they came in, a united front of sorts, and together they waited.

For her part, Minerva thought back to the first time she'd seen Severus Snape after waiting — as they did now — in this very room. He'd looked shy and small, gangly in his oversized clothing he wore beneath his robes. Unlike several of his classmates, he knew exactly what house he wanted to be sorted into, but he was still nervous as she lowered the Sorting Hat over his head. He'd had a sort of buzzing energy about him back then, an excitement at finally being at the place he had dreamt of for so long.

He had done well at the school, both with his marks and life as a whole. Aside from the obvious signs that suggested his home life left plenty to be desired, she knew nothing about him outside of the school and Horace Slughorn certainly hadn't put in the work to find out. But she had seen him fill out as he grew up, only to come back leaner and more sullen, and it was a relief to know that at least here, he was away from his home...for whatever good that had done him.

She remembered, too, how he'd looked after the 'prank' Sirius had pulled on him shortly before their O.W.L.s. Weedy, snobbish, bookish, and strange, he had been overcome with anger and hardly able to get out a full sentence for nearly an hour. Albus had let all the boys off easily, with detentions and house point deductions, and after they'd been dismissed, everyone had gone back to their common rooms.

On her way back to her own office she had seen Snape standing before the hourglasses, his hand tracing the same path the gems would take down as tears snaked down his cheeks. She hadn't spoken to him then and wondered if it would have done any good if she had. Probably not.

The clearing of a throat brought her attention back to the present and Pomona leaned over to whisper in her ear, "I think he's coming… I hear footsteps."

He rounded the corner swiftly, dressed sharply in black robes, and all conversation in the Hall stopped. The sound of his boots was loud and concise, and as he reached the remaining empty chair at the table, he looked up to meet her eyes. The two of them were the only ones besides Albus still standing.

"Good morning." His voice was low but self-assured, deeper than she remembered. He caught the look she threw at his left arm, covered by the sleeves of his robes. "Problem, Professor?"

"No," she said, looking back to his face. "None here."

And although that was not quite true, she felt like it could be.

* * *

It had been a while since Minerva had watched a baby alone and she was grateful for the distraction. Looking after Harry made it easier, in a way, to accept last night's news. With him here, needing to be entertained and fed and changed, she was forced to keep moving. And with classes canceled, she knew that a good portion of her day would have otherwise been spent in her favorite chair by the window, nursing a glass of whiskey and thinking about the two lives that had just been lost.

The knock on her door just after she put Harry down was unexpected and she started slightly. Albus was going to be gone for most of the day, getting things in order in Little Whinging he'd told her, and Hagrid was not due to come take the boy for a couple more hours. Who, then, was at her door?

It could have been Pomona or Filius, or even Poppy, but the knock had been different from all of theirs. Quieter.

She opened the door to see Severus and she felt her breath catch. He was usually composed, from his face to his robes, but he was far from it this morning. Grief radiated from him, but a small glimmer of hope was there too, and she could already feel her own heart crack even further.

"It can't be true," he practically whispered, his voice hoarse. "Dumbledore said...last night….but maybe he was wrong. Perhaps I imagined it?"

It wasn't entirely inconceivable to think this was part of their cover, faking death in order to save themselves. If it weren't for the child sleeping in the room behind her, she would even consider it a possibility.

"Oh, Severus," she said gently. She thought about inviting him in; it wasn't like him to seek her out. But seeing Lily's son was likely to upset him further and she wasn't entirely sure he was up for that. "It's true."

She almost stepped into the hall and pulled the door closed behind her, but the look on his face stopped her, and she hesitated. She couldn't refuse him entry, not when she didn't know what he would do, and in her hesitation he stepped closer and then he was through the door without her really trying to stop him.

The moment he saw Harry, he froze.

And then the remainder of his composure crumpled.

He didn't speak but his shoulders shook and Minerva felt tears begin to streak down her own cheeks again. They didn't need words. The boy's presence was enough to erase all doubt. There was no way Lily would leave him.

Minerva approached Severus and touched his shoulder gently.

"Did she know?" he choked out. "That I…."

"That you switched sides?" She smiled faintly. "Yes."

Albus's trust made sense now more so than ever.

_**1998.** _

The memories could have continued all night and would have, she didn't doubt, had she not been joined. She had not heard anyone approach but she was suddenly aware of the people around her, the beating hearts amongst the still ones.

"There, there, Minnie," murmured Pomona, to her right. A warm hand slipped into hers on her left side, the fingers calloused and thick. Filius then. From above there was a hand on her shoulder; that would be Hagrid. She opened her eyes to look around her and was surprised to see most of the professors standing there, a somber front, united by death.

They were all quiet, waiting for her to speak.

"He didn't deserve to be alone when he died," she said finally, her voice hoarse.

"No," Filius replied, "he didn't. And you shouldn't be alone tonight, either."

She turned her head to smile faintly at him, at all of them, glad that her friends — no, her family — had come to mourn with her, for though she valued honesty and bravery, she valued them more.

"For Severus," she said, looking back toward him.


End file.
